


Every Step That I Ran To You

by mittamoo



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Trans Andrew Minyard, Trans Neil Josten, pottery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mittamoo/pseuds/mittamoo
Summary: The sight of Neil grumbling good-naturedly as he slides into the car eases something in his chest. What Andrew wants to say is; hello, I missed you, I love you. What he says is.“Good to see you didn’t die in transit.”





	Every Step That I Ran To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transandrewminyard (nocturnalboys)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnalboys/gifts).



> This is a gift for Jaime in the unfortunately dubbed pissboy extravaganza. Hope you like it!!!

Andrew’s morning started in much the same way as many of his mornings tend to do, with the weight of a large cat launched onto his chest, screaming with all of the righteous fury of a cat that is not being fed immediately, right this second. Andrew takes an indulgent moment to curse the fact that despite evolving to be approximately the size of a toddler, King had not decided to add thumbs to her repertoire, preferring instead to scare the living shit out of Andrew nearly every morning.

Large and angry cat appeased with offerings of food, he finally gets to check his phone and send a quick text to Neil confirming flight times, before climbing into the shower. Spending a weird amount of time sat on the shower floor being warm, and then proceeding to spend 15 minutes desperately wiggling into his binder and looking- quite frankly- like some kind of demented fish. Another text conversation with Neil to remind him to bring Andrew’s actual packer with him from where it had been left under a bed back in Palmetto that quickly devolved into bickering as he realised he desperately needed to do laundry today. _Because no Neil, he can’t ‘just pack with a dirty sock’ he’s not an animal._

In his time living alone, Andrew has grown to find the act of cleaning the apartment to be a soothing one, there is after all something nice about ridding an area of mess while whatever music he pleases blasts in the background. If there is also the added bonus of vengeance against King by turning on the vacuum, well. That’s nobody’s business but his. It is particularly nobody’s business at all if he gives her a quick cuddle to make up for it either.

It’s been harder than he likes to admit, adjusting to living entirely alone for the first time in his life. Living without the constant background noise was odd and the seemingly constant silence that surrounded him felt daunting, even threatening at times. It took weeks of feeling uneasy and a slightly hysterical phone call to Bee in the early hours of the morning before he was able to take more steps to make things easier for himself. Those measures were as follows, a radio to play in the background, more frequent contact with Neil and his family, and finally, a large and extremely loud cat with a stupid name.  

All in all it was an effective method to keep Andrew from dwelling on the fact all of his family is so far away. However on days like this, days where he didn’t really have anything to do but count down the seconds until a plane land. Its days like that where he really feels the missing presence at his side like a lost limb. Days like this where he feels desperately, pathetically, and oh how he hates this word, _lonely._ But, the feeling will pass as feelings are wont to do, and for the whole week he will have Neil in his home. Andrew pointedly does not think about the period of loneliness that always crops up directly after Neil leaves, this separation after all, is not forever.

The drive to the airport is as always, completely uneventful. He drove there, got stuck in traffic, vaguely wished Neil and his creative road rage yelling was here. Parked up at the airport and begun his wait. Idly he thinks of getting out of the car and meeting Neil in arrivals like other couples get to do, thinks of being able to grab onto and hold him in the middle of the airport. Allows himself to fantasize for a moment before dismissing that thought, neither of them are ready for the attention that would bring, and really he’s okay with that but sometimes he can’t help but want what others have and he does not.

He absolutely does not fall asleep in the car, because he definitely did not get there weirdly early because he couldn’t stand waiting at home anymore. Andrew will maintain this to his grave. For once it seems that Andrew is the liar.

Debates on his state of consciousness aside, Andrew is rather proud of the fact that he doesn’t startle when Neil bangs on the window asking to be let into the car. He does however make Neil wait an extra two minutes outside in retribution for his crimes. The sight of Neil grumbling good-naturedly as he slides into the car eases something in his chest. What Andrew wants to say is; hello, I missed you, ~~I love you.~~ What he says is.

“Good to see you didn’t die in transit.” Which is close enough really, so he doesn’t say anything else.

“Well, there’s always next time” Neil shoots back, hand slipping over Andrew’s on the gear stick.

The journey home continues is contented silence, walking into his apartment and with a hushed question, falling into each other’s arms right in the doorway. Andrew tucks his head right into Neil’s shoulder and inhales, an allowed indulgence he knows Neil won’t call him on, not today at least. Not when it seems Neil wants the proximity just as much as he does. After a long moment Neil pulls away to pay attention to King. Who is of course, utterly indignant to not have been Neil’s priority in attentions. To show her displeasure, she only allows Neil one chin scratch before she stalks off to do whatever it is that King does with her time, certainly nothing useful. But since she is a cat Andrew forgives her for not pulling her weight in the household upkeep.

“Hello Gay Rights Iguana,” Neil, says fondly, absently patting the haphazard lump of children’s toy and brightly coloured tape that sits in pride of place on Andrew’s shelf.

Greetings seemingly done, Neil wonders off to dump his bag into the bedroom whilst Andrew hurls himself onto the couch and enjoys the sound of Neil’s rustling and movements from another room. It’s peaceful and Andrew finds that he quite likes it. That is, until something nails him in the back of the head, accompanied by Neil’s laughter. Meaning, Andrew has to scrabble for the object quickly to prevent King claiming it as her own and running off with it. Still laughing, Neil walks up to him and drops a quick kiss to the top of his head.

“Your cock sir,” He says

“Fuck you”

A brief race with King for the packer won, by merit of Neil grabbing her and lifting her into the air rather than any level of real speed on Andrew’s part, He knew Neil had plans for the rest of the day. Although he was kind of hoping Neil would forget about them. A pottery class. Neil wanted them to go to a pottery class and Andrew, swept up as he often gets in Neil’s nonsense agreed. _Look Andrew it says we get to keep what we make, that means we can smash them!_ Which okay yes, does sound like a lot of fun. With promise of object breaking no longer the forefront of his mind however, Andrew has reached an obstacle; actually having to go to the class in order to have something to break.

Frustratingly relentless in all aspects of life, Neil does in fact remember about the pottery class he said they’d go to, and after a minimal amount of token whining about getting clay under his nails, Andrew finds that he really is enjoying himself just as much as Neil is. There’s something nice about watching his wonky pot take shape from a lump of wet clay and knowing that it is his to smash against some random wall at a later date. Along with a vague god complex, he finds that he kind of wants to sit on a potter’s wheel and get spun. For sake of his dignity, Andrew does not attempt to do this and instead selects to wipe some of the excess clay on his hands across the side of Neil’s stupid, stupid face.

More than anything Andrew remembers how much he’s missed this, being able to go on stupid not-quite-dates adventures with Neil. He doesn’t regret things but he does vow to himself that he’s going to find something to do like this the next time he visits Neil now that their regular ‘date night’ traditions that begun back at Palmetto are now carried out through a screen and thousands of miles away from each other. Turns out Nicky wasn’t being dramatic when he said long distance relationships felt like dying sometimes.

When they got home, with their little hand moulded, air-dry pots tucked under their arms, and fingers laced together. Neil quickly untangled himself from Andrew and shucked his coat off, leaving it on the floor by the door instead of hanging it up. Neil is a bastard, don’t be like Neil. Sighing Andrew hangs his own coat up and kicks Neil’s farther into the corner before following Neil into the house.

“Can you get the stuff for stir-fry out of the fridge while I free myself from fabric lung prison?” A reasonable question to ask.

“No.” Andrew says, already opening the fridge.

In a few minutes Neil returns, clad in Andrew’s hoodie and sweatpants, looking entirely too pleased with himself and Andrew decides that if Neil is allowed to be comfy and get ready for bed at barely five in the evening, He should be allowed to do that too. So he checks Neil into the wall as he passes him by. Then once in the bedroom set about getting out of his clothes quick enough that the universe will forget that he has a tendency to get- oh- _stuck._

“Neil,” he says “Neil. Help me.” And resolutely ignores the sound of muffled laughter from the other room

“Come here then” he says, quickly freeing his shoulders from their compressive trap “how long have you been doing this again?”

“Oh fuck right off Mr I-never-get-stuck-in-my-binder”

Neil does not fuck off. Instead Neil laughs softly and leans in to kiss the tip of Andrew’s nose. One day Andrew is going to fucking revolt. How dare Neil abuse his power of making Andrew just, really, really gay. Huffing loudly to make his displeasure known to the bastard, Andrew turns away to continue getting changed into Neil’s hoodie and what were probably Renee’s sweatpants once. Neil wanders off while he does this. Presumably to keep making stir-fry but possibly because he knows the weight of his sins.

They end up eating together on the couch, fending off King’s advances and ending up discussing the pros and cons of living in a swamp versus living in a cave. Andrew maintains that a swamp would be cooler and that Neil can die alone in his shitty cave.

Meal done, Neil decides to usurp King from her seat to sprawl himself across Andrew’s lap, tipping his head upwards in a demand for affection. So essentially having King with thumbs on his lap.

“Can we put Bake Off on?” is muttered into his thighs

“Are you going to fall asleep halfway through?”

A long pause, then “No.”

Neil did in fact, fall asleep midway through, but that doesn’t matter. Because Andrew had fallen asleep first.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! feedback is loved


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